I Don't Need Anyone Else
by gopadfoot
Summary: Mycroft's had a hard day, and there's nobody there to listen to him. Except for two very little, very adorable people. Kidlock!


**A/N:** I've been thinking a lot about the Holmes' siblings as children. This idea popped into my head. I though Eurus must have had a stage where she was more innocent, although still unusual. Please read and review!

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Mycroft carefully placed his knapsack in the cupboard, and then paused to catch his breath. It felt like he had dragged home a suitcase filled with rocks, when in fact it was just his regular schoolbooks plus several more from the school library. He knew he was pretty out of shape, but he personally didn't mind that. The functioning of his brain was of utmost importance to him, and his physical appearance and capabilities were a minor matter.

Unfortunately for him, his classmates held a different opinion. Peter Menken and his minions had attempted to convey their viewpoint to Mycroft that day in the schoolyard, and not in the most friendly manner. That was fine with Mycroft, he had swiftly put them in their proper place.

He couldn't do much about his other classmates, who had stood around and laughed at the spectacle. The thing about manipulating people was that it was a slow and subtle process, and you had to choose your battles carefully. Eventually, he hoped to have them all at least tamed, if not under his thumb. If he had to endure some rather unpleasant moments in the meantime, it was a sacrifice he had to bear. Besides, he didn't really care about what some insufferable idiots thought about him. He didn't. He _wouldn't._

"How was your day, Mikey dear?" Mummy greeted him with a cheerful smile that didn't quite hide the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Okay, not too bad. Peter Menken tripped me in the schoolyard again."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sure it was just an accident."

Mycroft didn't know why he even bothered to continue. Mummy's responses were so predictable that they might have been rehearsed from a handbook. "Then he and his gang kicked me and told me I'm a fat slob and a freaky nerd."

Mummy's eyes filled with concern. "Goodness, that's terrible! I'm sure they don't really think so. They're just jealous that you're doing so well in school. Speaking of which, how's your literature essay coming along? I'd like to look it over. Perhaps after the little ones go to sleep. Or maybe tomorrow." She yawned. "I think I'll turn in early. The kids gave me a run for my money today."

"It's alright, Mummy," Mycroft told her. "I can finish it myself. Should I watch the kids for a bit so you can rest?" he asked dutifully.

"You're a good boy, Mycroft. I'll take you up on the offer. They're both in the playroom, and it's getting suspiciously quiet in there." She gave him a little wave and headed up to her room. As his mother's back disappeared, Mycroft's shoulders slumped slightly.

Mycroft stuck his head into the open door of the playroom. He smirked when he saw what his two younger siblings were up to. They were quietly taking apart the small bookcase, with an assortment of screw drivers and various other tools. The books were scattered all about the room, as were an assortment of toys, dolls, and food items.

Mycroft stepped inside and felt something go _squish_ under his right shoe. Eurus turned around and eyed him disdainfully. "You stepped into our cake!" she informed him indignantly. Mycroft looked down at the gooey concoction and frowned thoughtfully. "Flour, water, lemon juice, eggs, and what's that, strawberries?"

"It's a strawberry shortcake!" Sherlock yelled gleefully. "It's for my birthday!"

"Your birthday is not for another few months, Lockie," Mycroft informed him sternly. "And this will be a heck of a job to clean off the carpet. Why didn't you ask Mummy before you took the ingredients yourself?" He folded his arms and looked at them sternly, holding back his laughter at their guilty expressions.

"Boring!" Sherlock whined. "Anyway, It's my birthday whenever I want it to be."

Eurus was staring at Mycroft now, her blue-green eyes never wavering. Mycroft felt something slither in his gut. He always got that feeling when Eurus was looking at him in that way. There was something about her piercing gaze that made him feel that he was being slowly dissected, until all his innards were laid bare. He quickly shut down that thought and smiled at the pigtailed two year old. "What is it, Eurus?"

"You had a fight today," she informed him. Sherlock put down his screwdriver and nails and went to stand besides his sister, joining her in scrutinizing their big brother. "Yes, you look a little sad, Mycroft. Is that how you knew?" he turned to his younger sibling.

Eurus ignored him and continued staring at Mycroft. "It was Peter Menken. And three other boys. They tripped you. Then they kicked you. Peter wanted to steal your lunch money from your knapsack, but you hid it in your geography book, so his attempt was aborted," she recited in a monotone.

Mycroft swallowed. Of course, Eurus knew everything that she had no business knowing. He place a few fingers under her upturned chin and tickled her. "You are quite the little busybody, aren't you, Russy?" She giggled, a high-pitched, tinkling sound, and Mycroft sighed in relief. There were times when she seemed to shut down, and stare at them for hours silently. Nothing could get her to react in that case. He would try tickling, light pinching, and yelling into her face, but all she did was look at him blankly. "She's a dreamy one," Mummy would laugh, but it made Mycroft anxious, for some reason. Now she was laughing, and he was glad for it.

"And what do you think you're doing with Daddy's tools, young man?" he turned to his little brother. The three year old looked at him solemnly. "It's a 'speriment. We're trying to see how long it will take to take the bookcase apart."

"No, Sherlock," Eurus giggled. "We were trying to see how long it will take until someone realizes what we're doing in here!"

"Please, Lockie, put those down, you can get hurt." He ruffled the boy's hair fondly. "Even big boys like me are not allowed to touch tools unless an adult is watching."

"Mycroft, you know Daddy's gonna build me a ship when he comes back from Australia? Really, he promised! A real pirate ship!" Sherlock's eyes sparkled, and he began dancing about the room.

"You're so silly Sherlock, you can't be a real pirate," Eurus sniffed, but Sherlock took her hand and dragged her along, screaming, "Yippee! Yippee!" Eurus joined him and soon they were spinning around the room and screaming at the top of their lungs. Despite himself, Mycroft felt a burble of laughter coming up in his throat and bursting out. His little siblings were just too funny.

He slid against the wall and sank down on the floor, watching them. Sherlock came over to him and asked, "Mycroft, are you no longer sad?" Mycroft looked at the tender concern in those big blue-gray eyes, and suddenly felt a lump in his throat. "No, I'm no longer sad," he lied, fighting the wetness in his eyes.

"You are sad," Eurus sat down beside him. "You are sad because you don't have any friends and everybody laughs at you." Eurus looked at him earnestly, and for a moment, Mycroft noticed something different in her usually steady gaze. Was it sympathy? Empathy? Understanding?

"It's alright. I got back at them." And suddenly, Mycroft found himself pouring out his heart to two attentive listeners. Sherlock had sat down on his other side and placed a tiny hand on his. Eurus leaned her light-brown pigtailed head against his side, and listened quietly. He told them about the bullies, and all the torment they put him through every day. He spoke about how he had threatened Peter to reveal his cheating habits. He told them about analyzing the other members of his gang, and finding their weak points. He had confronted each one separately, and shocked them with his knowledge. They would at least be wary of him from now on.

He then told his little siblings about his plans to slowly win over his classmates. He had no illusions of making friends, but some well-placed promises, as well as some equally well placed plans, would surely turn things in his favor. Then he began speaking of his hopes and plans for the future, of how he would one day hold a powerful position and would laugh at those who would forever continue in their pathetic lives.

"I don't really need them, anyway," he averred. "I'm just going to practice on them. One day, I'm going to be a politician, and I need to prepare for my career. They're all idiots, busy with insignificant ventures like playing sports. They don't realize that there's a whole universe out there for the taking, if you only use your head. They're like... you see those goldfish in those tank? The kids in my class are goldfish."

Sherlock started giggling. "Goldfish! They can't be goldfish, they don't have gills and fins. You're so silly Mycroft!"

"Goldfish." Eurus echoed contemplatively. "What an idea."

"What are we, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked plaintively.

"You," said Mycroft, putting one arm around each sibling, "you the best little brother and little sister in the universe. As long as I have you both, I don't need anyone else."


End file.
